


In Bloom

by LWYRUP



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Denial, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Guilt, Herbology, Herbology Class (Harry Potter), Hogwarts Second Year, Implied/Referenced Character Death, More Chapters to Come, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Potions Class (Harry Potter), Reader-Insert, References to Depression, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-08-03 10:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16324100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LWYRUP/pseuds/LWYRUP
Summary: In late 1992, you return to Hogwarts as a professor in the Herbology department, deciding that the death you left behind ten years ago isn't something you can avoid forever.To understand Potions you must, first, master Herbology. They go together like day and night, black and white. It's only natural there may be a little friction.Annoyed at first of your arrival, Severus Snape slowly recognizes the opportunity to let someone peek through the cracks once again. Will you fill their spaces or break them away?





	1. Daffodil

**Author's Note:**

> y/h/c = your hair color  
> y/e/c = your eye color
> 
> ~
> 
> I really enjoy Snapes character, he's like Squidward. You hated him as a kid but now you love him lmao

Daffodil: Rebirth and new beginnings.

 

**September, 1992**

It had been years since you last walked through the corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You were a young witch then, Slytherin, with a particular strength in Herbology and Astronomy. Your parents would joke this was due to naming you after the earth and the stars, Rose Polaris, but overall you’ve always been quick witted and confident. Which is precisely why you’re back.

During your time as a student you never thought you’d be a professor, however here you are, making your journey to Hogwarts, as you have done countless times in your youth, to start your career as the new Herbology teacher. Well, in fact, the schools second. An unusual spike of the numbers of first years has risen, leaving the school in need of a few second teachers for select subjects. And of course this was also the year the greenhouses acquire seven new species of magical plants that definitely needed extra help with.

As the sun was dipping below the mountain line, you drew your black tailcoat closer around you and lugged your trunk and birdcage toward the main entry of the too familiar castle doors. The travel left your arms sore, though it was only a few hours ride from London. Awaiting you in the old stone courtyard outside the entrance hall was an older, peppered hair witch with caring grey-blue eyes. Her draped robes and pointed hat casted a silhouette against the dimming sky. 

“Dearie me, I was wondering when you’d arrive. Quick, come inside, it’s freezing out here!” Professor McGonagall beckoned. You accepted her help as she took your trunk and directed you to the grand opening and inside. While you placed your cage on the stone tiled floor, the large wooden doors rumbled shut as you turned to face the woman.

“Rosie”, she chirped, and gave you a warm and long missed hug.

“Minerva”, you greeted back in a raspier tone than your usual textured voice. The air had indeed been numbing. Your hug only lasted a few seconds, and she drew back to see your eyes and give you a smile – her hands still on your upper arms.

“It is strange... not calling you professor”, you let air out of your nose with a small smile as you absorbed the peculiar situation. As you breathed in, you smelled your happier days, which seem so long past you. Distant potion fumes and herbs, the lingering scent of sweet parchment and wax. And of course the musky lull of old books. You were home.

“It’ll be strange calling _you_ professor,” Minerva explained with a coy smile. “This way, Dear. I’ll show you to your quarters,” she went on, as she began down the warm toned corridor lit with lamps and torches. You returned to your cage and hauled it after her. Down several sets of stairs and corridors, you realised you were headed in the direction of the dungeons. Paintings waved you by as you passed and you couldn’t help but wave back.

“I thought you’d prefer down here, as most of the teachers quarters are close to their own houses common rooms. I believe it brings a sort of comfort from memories,” Minerva quirks a grin, and so do you. Mother always raised you to return kindness when it was given, but this was genuine.

“It’s perfect, I'm grateful for the help,” you thanked in your low, eloquent tone. As you inserted the black iron key, the rustic, oak paneled door opened and you hear a faint flutter of wings from down next to you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early. Professor Dumbledore wants to see us all for a staff meeting after breakfast. You can meet everyone then, after you rest and get settled in. Goodnight Rose.”

You bid her a goodnight with a bow of your neck, and with a last look, the older witch started back in the direction you came with a spring in her step. After a moment, you brought your cage inside the room, soon followed by your trunk. The quarters were beautiful. A tall wide window stood at the opposite wall from the door with a queen sized bed beneath it. Green shimmers of light dance around the covers as the Black Lake casted an ominous but calming reflection of the moon far above. Two ebony dressers with lanterns atop resided at either side of the bed, gilded in silver embellishments. A bookcase, wardrobe, and fire place filled the space to the left of the entry, and a door to your bathroom on the right.

Perching your cage on a small table next to the bathroom entry, you open it to feed Hugo, your sooty owl. His feathers were the same color as the pepper-haired witch, dark, light, and everything in between. He opened his ash wings and emerged from his enclosure. After unpacking your trunk, you found a place for all your items with a flick of your wand before slipping away into a sleep as soon as your face touched the pillow. You slept sound, and a little less sad.

*

Morning crept into your eyes as your quarters came into vision. Minerva was absolutely right, the familiar feeling of the cold dungeons and thin air was definitely more comfortable than the rest of the castle.

Hugo was asleep atop the dome of his cage as your gaze panned across the room. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. The silvery green glow of your quarters had shifted to a warmer tone as the sun replaced the moon. You checked the time, it was only 6am, but you felt well rested. Plenty of time to get ready for the day and maybe squeeze in a few chapters of reading. After a shower you dried yourself off with a flick of your wand. Oh, how you would never understand how those muggles get by in life without magic.

You rummaged your wardrobe, but ended on the outfit you always wore – a long fitted black dress: side slit, turtlenecked, and sleeveless, pairing it with a black chevron robe, cape style, which hangs on the back of your shoulders and drapes graciously to the floor and pools at your feet. It may have been your pureblood upbringing, but you’ve always dressed elegant. You top it off with a leather belt held with silver clasps around your mid-section, and a simple pair of black boots with similar silver buckles.

You fashioned a loose braid for the occasion, plucking a few y/h/c strands from the front to frame your face. With more than an hour to spare, you applied a natural makeup and pick up a book to start on. No more than a quarter through the book you checked the time on the old clock above Hugo's cage. Perfect, 10 minutes until breakfast. You poured a few treats for the sleeping owl and set the bowl aside for when he wakes.

“I will be back later…,” you whispered as you fetched your wand from the bed side table. You headed out the door and with a twist of the old metal key, it was locked. The ribbon around the top loop lengthens with a simple charm and kept it around your neck.

Paintings waved and smiled again as you passed them by, most however were still asleep or not in their frames completely. It only took you a few minutes to reach the Great Hall. A school such as this doesn’t leave your memories easily, so finding your way took no effort at all. Most of the teachers had already arrived, spare of a few empty seats. Minerva caught your eye; you gave a friendly nod and approached the front of the hall – a space you never thought you’d be welcome at. As you looked up, you noticed the candles dancing around in the air as they always have done. You took the seat at the very end of the table on the left, a little unsure. However, no other professors flashed any worrying looks, so you guessed that was your queue to fill your plate with food. Fresh toast, scrambled eggs, pumpkin juice, hash browns, tea, and sweet cakes… You felt 11 again.

The hall filled with teachers, and eventually Dumbledore himself. After all this time, he looked as if he never aged a day. His silver hair flowed down his face and blended with his beard. Lilac robes shined under the torch light, illuminating him as the brightest one in the hall. He flashed a delighted grin at you behind his half room spectacles, and you wondered if he remembered twenty years ago. You had no doubt.

The empty spaces around you were now occupied with teachers, ghosts; even Peeves seemed to be behaving in the corner furthest from the teachers table, busying himself with an old pack of cards. Dumbledore and the Barron were the only ones that ensured the poltergeist would not cause trouble. Of course, only when they were around. You sensed a dark body, colors matching yours, glide in the seat beside you. You took no notice, however, as your focus was fixed on Filch arguing with Peeves.

“Those are my cards, you pansy!” the caretaker barked. His bottom lip quivered with sweat as he tried to swipe the cards away.

“Don’t see no name on them, sir. Me thinks they are no bodies,” the hovering entity joked, turning translucent. “See! I’m no body. He hee heee!” He zoomed off out the Great Hall, leaving Filch full of anger in the corner alone.

After you were full, the food faded and vanished from the tables as the house elves below cleared the hall above them. You knew about the elves since your second year at Hogwarts. Theodore Whitebone, a fifth year half-blood boy told the entire Slytherin common room one day, even though students weren’t supposed to know. How he found out, you didn’t want to know. Oh, how it felt so long ago.

You then joined the teachers now gathering where the first years would stand in just a few days time. Minerva waved you over to her, who was chatting to Professor Sprout. “There she is!” the Herbology teacher smiled. You shook her hand, and before you even spoke, she started “Of course I remember you, Rose! You were top of my class,” she beamed, filling your cheeks with warmth. You all turned to silence as the headmaster approached the crowd positioned behind his golden podium.

“Greetings, everyone,” came Dumbledore’s slow and certain tone. “A few things we should address. This year will be one of our busiest yet, with an extraordinarily high number of first years soon arriving in just a few days. Firstly, I’d like to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart. I trust you all have heard of his achievements,” he smirked as he gaged our reactions. “Our second Charms teacher, Professor Felix Goldspatch. He will be in aid of Professor Flitwick this year. Also, Professor Tully Zander. She will be assisting Professor Binns in history. And lastly, Professor Rose Polaris, our second for Herbology with Professor Sprout. I do hope you all enjoy our school, and may this year be our most developmental one yet.” With that, he raised his arms wide, humbling, and dismissed us. Most of the professors clapped for their new additions, and started to shake hands. Many you remembered from your time as a student, and many were new teachers you’ve yet to know.

Gilderoy Lockhart, a new teacher like yourself, took your hand dramatically and kissed the top of it, looking up at you through his eye lashes. You allowed this, as it was only polite. “Charmed,” he introduced. “Rose, is it?”

“Professor Polaris, if you would,” you corrected.

“Right… Well I’m sure Herbology is _such_ a fascinating subject,” he continued, “…however, if you feel you may need a few tips, and I have no doubt you will, don’t hesitate to ask me,” he finished with a wink. You were very taken aback by the mere sight of this man – blonde curls like a choir school boy and a fake smile so white you had to squint to see. It might even be more luminous than Dumbledore himself. It was a little insulting he thought you weren’t up for the job, but you smiled as a lady would – anger bubbling inside you. You certainly remember him. Ravenclaw, half-blood. Not in your year, but always quick to make a story of himself. And now here he was, teaching one of the most important subjects in the school. A wide girth would sure be taken.

You pulled your hand away and held them both behind your back. A dark figure stood behind the man and caught your eye as you peered over his shoulder. “Don’t you have anything better to do, Lockhart, than to prey on the weak?” A bored voice spoke. The blonde man spun around startled as he was face to face with the potions master.

“Ahh, hello. And who might you be?” Gilderoy breathed in deeply, puffing his chest out and sporting that fake toothy grin.

Your eyes narrowed on the other man, studying his features. Black curtain hair curved around thin white cheeks, emphasizing the shadows sitting shallowly under obsidian eyes. You recognised him instantly. “Severus?” you asked, curiosity tinging your expression.

Lockhart shrank, realising he was the outlier in the situation. “Oh, I see you two are already acquainted. I’ll just… leave you to it then,” he awkwardly smiled, ducking off to chat with the ghosts.

 _Severus Snape at Hogwarts?_ …it didn’t surprise you, but to your dismay the two of you weren’t exactly friends when you were younger. He was a year ahead of you, and seemed to hate absolutely everyone. _Except_ …

The cloaked man turned on his feet and walked away without a word. He was just the same, maybe even colder.

*

You made your way to your new classroom, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Sprout at your side. When the school year started, you’d be teaching the theory aspect of the lessons, while Professor Sprout will be teaching the practical in the greenhouses. You would be switching each month, lessening the heavy workload on each other. Well, at least this was Dumbledore’s plan for all the second in command teachers. You were glad, as this would be a great chance to become familiar with the students.

You all arrive at the room which is just a few corridors away from the greenhouses. It’s locked, and looks as if it has been for years. The door opens with a wave of the Headmasters hand, and bangs open against its hinges. You all enter and squint through the dark. The room was coated with a thin layer of dust covering every surface. Even the arched windows were dim and dirty, allowing only a few streams of light in. It didn’t look like this was a room Filch has ever cleaned.

“Just a moment, if you will. We’ve never had so much staff, and no need to have so many operating classrooms.” Dumbledore casted an unfamiliar charm and the room swept itself up, all the dust clearing from the desks and floor. The windows became crystal clear again, allowing bright beams of light through the glass. The stone fireplace against the far wall roared to life, warming the previously dank and abandoned room. The stone around it was carved to look like vines and leaves, which made you quirk an eyebrow and smirk.

“Everything seems to be in order. Please, if you are in need of anything at all, you only need ask,” he offered with a kind smile. You nod in appreciation, and wanderd to the centre of the room.

“You can set it up as you like, Rose,” Sprout exclaims, “I don’t mind.” You turn to the room and retrieve your wand from your side. The student tables and chairs started to fumble around and move to be set out in three straight rows, paired with two chairs to each table. Your desk hovered to the far right, in front of the first row.

Your wand flicked to the back, moving the chalkboard to the very fromt of the room. Your desk and board were set on a landing a few steps higher than the students arrangement, allowing you to watch over your class easily when the time comes. The bookcases adorning the spaces between each window filled with spare textbooks and random Herbology scrolls.

You turn back to face the two professors, but only to find Professor Sprout there with you. “Sorry Dear, he had to set up the new Charms classroom,” she added.

“That's quite alright. I was thinking of heading to the library some time today anyway,” you began in your husky drawl. “I think I will go over the syllabus a few times more."

“Good thinking. The students will arrive in just two days time, I’m so excited! Would you be able to help me move the mandrakes?” the stumpy witch asks.

“Of course,” you replied as you both headed out of the classroom and towards the greenhouses.

Later on during the day, you and Pamona made your way to the Great Hall for lunch. Noticing only half of the teachers, you leaned towards the witch dressed in earth brown and whispered “Where is everybody?”

“Most of us spend our time as we wish when the students are not here,” she said.

With a nod, you headed over to the seat you had earlier that morning. The smell of ham sandwiches, roast potato, soup, and zesty citrus danced around your nose. “ _Aguamenti_ ,” you point your wand at your goblet. The clear liquid filled it to the brim and you drank it down in slow gulps. As you set the engraved chalice atop the table, a familiar dark figure sits next to you.

“Hello, Severus.” You tap your napkin over your lips as his form into a straight line, deepening the wrinkle between his eyes. It looked as though something was troubling him; you didn’t see anything wrong with asking. “Is everything alright?”

His dark eyes flickered to your y/e/c ones. “None of your bloody business. If I wanted to talk with you, Ms. Polaris, I would have continued to do so over ten years ago,” he stated stiffly. Uncomfortable silence filled the space between you.

Your brow furrowed as you turned back to your goblet. It was fine with you, you can get the hint. You rarely showed your emotions; only smiling and returning kindness where you receive it. Father taught you the proper way to keep company, and this was not it. He raised you to never involve yourself in altercations, so you remained quiet throughout the rest of your meal.

Only getting through half your plate of food, you silently rose from your seat and left. As you walked out the large doors of the Great Hall, you looked back at the table to find Snape already looking at you with burning eyes.

The air thinned out and became moist as you walked through the dungeons toward your quarters. The door rattled open with the key you had been wearing all day, and you stepped in the see Hugo awake and stretching his wings. You pet him, stroking his feathers softly and kissing his little beak. He nibbled at your cheek and you let out a small laugh. You felt slightly better now, being away from such a rude man. The students haven’t even arrived yet and he was already in a sour mood.

You could understand, though. Depression was something you’ve dealt with years, and you barely knew the man. Perhaps he battled his own demons. You walked over to your bed and sat on the edge, liquid light dancing around your form. Life wasn’t fair, at least back then. Things were better now, _safer_ , but it doesn’t change the circumstances, or bring back the people you have lost. And him? Was it her?

Your eyes prickled with the threat of tears, but you blinked them back, not caring enough to dwell on the idea. Your family was gone.

**

Today was the day. The students, new and old, would arrive at the castle at sunset and the term would begin. As usual, you decided to wear a long black dress to the feast along with your signature black cape robe billowing behind you from the shoulders, gliding along the stone floor chasing your feet. You were content. All your lesson plans were ready for classes tomorrow; all you had to do was get through the initial first impressions with the students. Piece of cake. You were good at small talk and conversation, and you felt at ease in most social settings. When your parents held gatherings you’d always have to do so with distant relatives. But this was different. These were students, and they would look upto you. You fed Hugo and headed for the Great Hall with him perched on your arm. Closer now to the Entrance Hall, you set him off so he could join the other owls in the owlery.

The moment you walked through the grand doors a large, towering man caught your eye and headed right over to you. “Why, ‘ello there, Rose. Pleasure ter see yer ‘ere,” the man boomed.

“Evening Hagrid, I hope you’re well?”

“Of course! Students’ll be ‘ere in ten minutes. The firs’ years are already ‘ere waiting,” he laughed. Rubeus Hagrid was the schools groundskeep and keeper of keys, and always in a jolly mood. “Well ah‘ll be off ter ma seat. Nice ter see ya after all this time,” said the half giant, as he went up to the teachers table.

You sat where you always sat, at the very end of the long table next to Professor Snape, who was already seated and looking annoyed. “Evening…,” you greeted kindly. You were above pettiness, and this man certainly wouldn't scare you away so easily. He rolled his eyes but didn’t mutter a word, and you were glad he didn’t have a snide remark to spit like mere days before. You sat patiently, and in no time a sea of black cloaks came flowing through the large oak doors of the Great Hall. They all took their seats and chatted quietly among themselves. All in their respected houses, you guessed these were second-seventh year students. They looked calm and happy.

Professor McGonagall pattered in the hall and to the front of the podium, placing down a stool and the old raggedy sorting hat. This brought back memories of your first night at Hogwarts. You were so small the hat covered your entire face. A voice could be heard commenting on each student that wore the hat, and you were the same. After a few seconds, the hat rumbled out “SLYTHERIN!” The clapping and cheering created a cacophony throughout the hall as you made your way over to your house table.

A smile cracked across your face as you snapped back to reality. Professor McGonagall exited the hall and left everyone waiting for the initiation. You peered around, eyes landing on Snape, and you notice the curve of his face. His cheeks, white as paper hidden behind ebony hair. The way it curls and falls makes his thin face seem thinner. The heap of buttons that adorned his cloaked jacket seemed overkill, but made you wonder what he was hiding under that sea of clothing. His lips which formed a tight line across his face became even straighter as his cold eyes were fixed on a few students at the Gryffindor table. You followed his gaze to three students talking among themselves, probably catching up from the summer holiday. Snape’s eyes narrowed on a dark, messy haired boy, but soon averted away as McGonagall ushered the first years into the hall – and there were  _a lot_ of them. All wide eyed and curious, they looked up at the charmed ceiling as they reached the front.

The entire ceremony took over an hour to sort all the students into their houses; Snape clapped for each new addition to Slytherin house. After Professor Dumbledore addressed the school and introduced the new teachers (including yourself), finally the feast began. Roast chicken and potato appeared along the rows of tables accompanied by an audible gasp from the new students. There was baked pumpkin, carrot, sausages, soup of all kinds, cupcakes and pudding, tea and biscuits, boiled eggs and jacket potatoes and so much more.

You ate until you felt satisfied and watched as the students were guided out of the hall by prefects. A few teachers cleared out as well, so you did the same. You hoped to read a little before bed to ease your mind. As you stood, Snape did too and thumped into you. You grabbed the edge of his coat to stop your fall and let go with a swift brush of your hands once your feet were steady. “Would you _mind_ where you are going?” you growled at the man.

The mans face went from angry to downright furious. “Pardon me, but perhaps if you opened your eyes you’d see what’s right in front of you,” Severus bit back, opening his arms out and gesturing to himself. Anger spread across your cheeks, dusting them a light pink before you stalked out of the hall.

Your fast heartbeat and quick footsteps lead you down into the dungeons towards your room. Hearing hard footsteps behind you, you traveled deeper under the castle and turned to a corridor not in any path of students; well away from where they should be. You almost reached your room but the steps sounded even closer behind you now. As your head turned to see who was there, you noticed it’s him… You stop walking and turn to face him completely. “Are you following me, Severus?”

“Don’t be foolish. My chambers are down here as well,” he grumbled. Snape strode right past without even looking at you and pulled out his wand. With an intricate flick of his wrist, the last door in the corridor opened and he breezed right in, slamming it shut behind him. His room was only two doors down from yours.

After a minute of standing there, you unlocked your door and went inside. Heading straight for your bed, you fell on top of it and forgot about the book. Sleep took you.

*

You woke before the sun, feeling groggy and confused. Maybe a hot shower will wake your body. You made for the shower and stripped off the clothes you were wearing yesterday. The hot streams poured down your back as the room filled with steam, and it felt so good. Your muscles loosed up and made you feel revitalised. After you washed up you changed into fresh clothes, more or less identical to the outfit you just peeled off, and attached your black chevron cape. That’s one thing you understood about the man two doors down, wearing black just made you feel _comfortable_. After styling your hair in a loose but elegant bun, you added a white gold pin in your hair to keep it all together. By checking the mirror hanging on your wardrobe, you noticed the dark circles under your eyes. Great. You covered them with makeup and made your way over to your wand, heading out of your room and out of the dungeons.

You were the first in the hall, Filch hadn’t even been there yet to wipe the tables and sweep. You took your usual spot at the end of the table; a slight shudder making its way down your spine as your mind returned to last night. You thought about the man, and how he made you fall, how you caught onto his clothes. How he ignores your existence. Was he like this in school? You never really spoke to Severus Snape. He was a quiet boy, and mostly kept to himself. He wasn’t in any of your classes, being a year above you himself. You never did anything wrong towards him, so why did he seem to hate you so much? 

At the same time, you didn’t care enough to change his mind. If he didn’t like you that was his problem. Maybe two cynics aren’t meant to get along. They’d hate each other too much. As your mind drifted away a golden plate appeared in front of you, at your table only. Filch finally arrived with a broom in his hand, followed by Mrs. Norris, his cat. He didn’t seem to mind you sitting there as he wiped over the empty student tables. A mug filled with coffee appeared next to your plate as it began to stack high with pancakes. You finished them quickly and headed to your classroom before Filch was even finished cleaning. You left him alone in the hall as his cat strolled off somewhere.

You arrived to the classroom and checked the clock hanging on the wall. It was only 6:30. Teachers and students would only just now be waking up. You wandered over to the bookcases filled with parchment and tomes. With fingers brushing against the old spines of books, you plucked one out at random and sat down at your desk, reading to pass the time. A few hours later, you got so engrossed in the book _Herbology of the Tyrrhenian Sea in Medieval Italy_ you didn’t seem to notice a boy sitting in the first row seat.

“Hi there. You may introduce yourself,” you smiled at the boy, moving to stand in front of his table.

“N-Neville Longbottom, ma’am,” he trembled. “What’s that you’re reading?” You passed the book to him and his hands sank under its weight. “Woooww…,” he gaped.

“You may borrow it if you would like,” you suggest.

“Really?” Neville’s eyes grew wide with shock. “Th-Thankyou, professor.” More and more students filled the room as the timid boy smiled down at the old tome on his table. In no time, the last of your students arrived and your class began.

“As you all may know, I am the new second in command in the Herbology department. Because there are so many new first years, Professor Dumbledore has asked me to aid Professor Sprout with her lessons.” You explain how you will be shifting inside and out with the other teacher as the year progresses. You flicked your wand and the stack of syllabus papers hovered over to each student. “Each week, we will start on a new herb, so please, pay attention to your theories, as you will demonstrate your knowledge in your practicals.”

Students were taking notes with their quills as you spoke. After introductions of each student, you quickly found that a red haired boy named Ron Weasley was going to be interesting to teach. “Please take out your copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ , today we will be learning about the schools newly acquired mandrakes,” you instructed.

After sounds of shuffling through bags, a worried hand rose in the air, “Professor, I left my copy in my dorm,” the orange boy spoke.

“Share with Miss Granger please.”

The rest of your lessons were more of the same. Introductions, explanations, syllabi, this weeks topic. You skipped over lunch, not feeling so hungry, and stayed in your classroom to add more wood to the now smoldering fire. After a few more lessons, you were finished for the day. You did it. Everything went to plan and you were proud of yourself. You wish your parents could see you now. Lockhart would be shaking in his boots trying to ‘help’ you. His first day probably went horrendously. The thought of it made you laugh as you exited your room and closed the door behind you.

“Something funny?” came deep rumble.

You stopped, still facing the door. Recognizing the voice instantly, you turned to see Snape walking toward you in the corridor. With a scowl, he stopped, turning to face you. “A brick wall might laugh before you did, Severus.” Why was he in this part of the castle? His classroom was down in the dungeons, entirely on the other side, so he had no business walking down this particular hallway. Was he there to check on you? No staff member besides Filch has seen you all day. You brushed it off. The entire thing seemed ridiculous. A growl came from your stomach, making Snape quirk a brow as his eyes looked between yours and the source of the sound.

He would never admit to himself, for a brief moment he felt lost in the colour of her eyes. He shook his head and slowly turned to headed in the direction of dinner, and she followed several steps behind.

Without a second thought, you walked upto your seat where Severus had just sat next to. You held your head high, not letting the man get a rise out of you. To your amazement, your chair was pulled out and ready for you to sit down. You did so, and tucked yourself back in closer to the table. Students were darting in the hall quickly taking their places as the golden plates fill with familiar food. As you stabbed your fork into the slices of ham beneath you, you began to chew slowly. After a few more bites you turned to glance at the man next to you. “That wasn't necessary, but thank you,” you said as you both continued eating in silence for the rest of the meal.

Snape left before you, not seeming interested in dessert. You watched as he weaved in and out of students, finally reaching the door. He looked confused. Nervous. Sad. You guess he always did, though.


	2. Aster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter! It's a little short but I couldn't wait to post it because it's so cute.
> 
> I find listening to this helps me set the mood when I read and write, let me know what you think  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqoANESQ4cQ

Aster: Wisdom, devotion, and patience.

 

**December, 1992**

The months rolled by; you and Professor Sprout had been alternating work spaces a few times now and you finally grew used to your routine. The mandrakes were growing steady, yet how unfortunate that recent attacks in the school depended on these plants to restore petrified students. Dumbledore emphasized there was nothing to worry about – they would all be returned to normal in time, and the last thing to do was panic. It was an awful thought, but you had to keep on for the schools sake, and maturing these mandrakes was the only way you could help. Aside from that, you were glad you did not have to give the practical for repotting them in the first few weeks (the screams made your blood run cold).

Today was just like any other day with the trio in your class, except for Professor Sprout, who was under the weather indisposed in the infirmary. This month you were supposed to be in the classroom, but you didn’t mind so much. She would be feeling better in no time, so a few odd greenhouse classes didn’t bother you.

You ended the lesson 15 minutes early on the note that Ron Weasley, the accident prone boy, had elbowed over an entire tray of seedling aconite the class had just planted. You decided against taking house points away. The boy did seem genuinely afraid of some spiders that lived in the greenhouse, and even you found it odd they were all walking in a straight line toward the window he was working near.

Neville Longbottom didn’t look too happy glancing down at the mess on the cobblestone floor. You gave a sad smile to the boy. “You can stay and help me tidy if you’d like?”

The boy gleamed, trotting over to the side of the greenhouse to find some spades and gloves. The entire class headed out chipper, aside from him, the boy you grew a soft spot for, and you both crawled on your hands and knees finding lost seedlings. He too seemed to have a knack for Herbology, and reminded you of yourself in a way. Maybe the absence of his family made you feel motherly toward him. You knew the feeling of lost ones.

After ten minutes of retrieving the seeds from each crack and crevice, you swept up the broken cup-sized terracotta pots with a quick wave of the wand and Neville skillfully re-planted them in new ones. With the tray of pots now perfect as it once was before Mr. Weasley encountered them, Neville turned to face you but instantly went white and gaunt in the face. His quaking eyes travelled over your shoulder to a form you didn’t notice behind you.

“What would you be doing inside on a day like today?” A gloomy voiced aimed at the boy. Yet again, you turned to face the rumble you instantly recognized, and looked the man up and down. You hoped this wasn't going to become a regular thing.

“He was just helping me tidy up. Go on, Neville,” you patted the boy on the shoulder and gestured him out with a small smile. You brushed soil from the bottom of your cape as the glass door shuddered closed, now leaving you alone in the room full of magical plants and the man that emitted hate. Both standing there for a moment, you felt a bead of sweat roll down your back from the humidity of the greenhouse. Or maybe it was nervousness.

Snape crossed the space of the room with a green ominous glow reflecting on his being from the plants. He looked over the mandrakes growing quietly against the far side wall; the expression painted on his face looked pleased. He turned slowly to look at you once more as you stood still in your place, feet firmly planted to the cround. Black eyes sharpened on your features. His gaze felt powerful, as if reflecting a hidden force behind them, or maybe it was just his brooding nature. You could mistake it for anything, really. The man was a locked box, and the key died a long time ago, buried under years of issues. Maybe he was expecting Professor Sprout to be here instead of you.

“I’m in need of a few clippings of fluxweed. Mysteriously, my stores have run out, and seeing as it’s a full moon, would you mind if I took a few samples?” His tone came out softer than you had expected, surprising you.

“Not at all,” you put simply. It had been two or three months since the last time you heard a peep from Severus. You always sat beside him in the Great Hall, though you thought you’d keep your distance after the strange feeling you sensed from him after he pulled your chair out. You rarely saw each other after that moment, only at meal times where you'd both eat quietly and you would feel his eyes drilling into you. If that was his form of intimidation, it wasn't working. Often times you would point it out, feeling annoyed, "What?" and he never answered. Curiously enough, this was the first time he started a proper conversation with you.

Snape plucked a large vial from his robes and gathered a few sprigs of precious leaves from the plant. After tucking them away safely, he opened his mouth and shortly closed it again, deciding against whatever it was he was going to say. “Thank you,” was all that came as he started toward the exit.

You felt hot and flushed from the moisture in the air, which is why you didn’t think when you heard yourself speak. “Severus.” The man stopped in the doorway and raised an eyebrow. “How- how are you?” you asked cautiously.

Maybe his face dropped for a moment, something you hadn’t seen before. For a brief moment he looked softer and slightly puzzled compared to his normal sour and vacant face. The black clad man looked around for a moment, as if thinking of what to say. You were surprised he didn’t just roll his eyes and leave.

“I’m –,” he paused, “okay.” Snapes murmur was low and quiet, and with that, he left.

**

It was early, and your routinely habit of having breakfast alone in the Great Hall before everyone had found you in your classroom to prepare for the lesson in a few hours. It wasn’t that you wanted to avoid the morning rush, but sleep seemed to elude you in the quiet hours of the morning.  

A high screech echoed through the corridor outside your classroom, and suddenly Hugo, your sooty owl came swooping in your door, landing on the top of the chalkboard. His claws tinked at the metal frame encasing the board as you rustled his grey feathers. A small sliver of parchment was carefully clamped between his beak as his eyes flittered shut, enjoying his pat as your fingers swoop under his wing. Hugo surrendered the note in your outstretched hand and readjusted his axillaries feathers. The cursive lettering shivered on the paper as you held it up to the light.

 

_Ms. Polaris,_

_Due to the blizzard, today’s lesson,_

_which happens to be the last of the year, will be canceled._

_Enjoy this time off._

_Albus Dumbledore_

 

Hugo’s wings spread open and took off again, soaring across the classroom and out the door graciously. His absence was soon replaced by another a few minutes later, as a familiar man waited awkwardly with a knock at the door.

“Come in,” you chimed as you folded the letter back into its envelope and dropped it on your desk. You turn expecting a few students, maybe they didn’t know the class was canceled. However, you were surprised to see a man in red and gold robes standing idly in the middle of the room.

“Ah, Professor Polaris,” the man stretched his hand to shake yours. “Felix Goldspatch, we met a few months ago. Second Charms master.” You took his hand gladly, knowing he too was a new professor. Goldspatch was a small built man with tanned skin, light brown hair and golden eyes. They were captivating and concerning at the same time, almost owl-like.

“I was wondering if perhaps you’d maybe like to uh, assist me with decorating the Christmas trees in the Great Hall? Seeing as there’s not much else to do.” He wore a kind smile waiting for your answer.

“I’d be delighted.” Your parents raised you to be generous and helpful, as one day it may come back in useful ways. These were the tools of the trade in the social world.

You locked up your classroom and headed off down the corridor. During your brief walk to the hall, you both spoke of your classes, his sister and nephew in Belgium, what you thought of the school, ...and the Weasley boy. Laughing side by side, you entered through the large doors of the hall to see a few odd students sitting quietly spread out over the four long tables.

Hagrid was erecting a towering pine tree in the corner as eleven others stood beautifully; some still only half decorated. Professor Flitwick, McGonagall, the new Professor Zander, and Snape were levitating decorations up to to the trees masterfully, each bauble reflecting the golden light of the candles above. Filch was sweeping up pine needles from beneath each tree and muttering to himself grumpily. As you approached the trees, both still smiling about the humors of being teachers, the Charm Master’s head whips around, almost losing balance on the stack of books he was perched on.

“There you two are!" the half goblin man squeaked, "I thought you might’ve ran off with her, Felix,” he continued to joke. Goldspatch laughed and dramatically tugged the collar of his shirt. You covered the small smile on your face with your hand and desperately averted your gaze away from the two jokesters.

“I see you have all the help you need, Filius,” Snape grunted sarcastically and stalked away out of the hall. Minerva quirked an eyebrow from across the large room, but continued to decorate.

*

Christmas arrived in no time and the castle was as quiet as ever. Snow covered every surface outside the castle and the Black Lake was frozen over. Light no longer danced around you as you slept. It was still, hard. You thought of the petrified students.

You haven’t seen the corridors this desolate since you first arrived just a few months ago. It was peaceful, but at the same time a little lonely. You’d really come to enjoy your classes, but the holidays were well deserved. It seemed as if all students returned home for the period in fear.

When you were a young witch Christmas break was amazing. You would travel home to visit your parents, being surprised with gifts and small trinkets under a tree in the foyer. As tradition, there would be an extended family gathering, even people you had never met before would be seated beside you as you happily ate your Christmas turkey. The best part was seeing your distant cousins and racing them on broomsticks in the courtyard of your estate. It all seemed like a blur to you now as you picked at the food on the plate in front of you. Deep down you were never really one for celebrations. For over ten years you spent most of them alone.

You decided to spend the last day of the year attending to the greenhouse, then spend the evening with the company of the staff. The feast was lovely and short lived, as were the hours that followed. Filius charmed the Great Hall with confetti that faded before it touched the ground (to Filches delight).

It seemed as though Hagrid had a little too much wine and was sloppily dancing around the place, billowing about almost knocking down anything in his path. Lockhart, to everyone’s displeasure, insisted on telling a long-winded tale about one of his many accomplishments, which resulted in you drifting off in the background to sit by Snape, who looked painfully uncomfortable.

“May I?” With a wave of his hand, he swished it lazily, gesturing you to sit down. You sat quiet for moment and decided to test your luck. “How’ve you regarded your year?”

His empty eyes shifted to look at you – dark circles took permanent residence under them for many weeks now. “As you may know, I’m in charge of brewing the restorative draught for the petrified students.”

You nodded. The elixir was intricate and complicated, and still nowhere near completion. Despite everyone’s efforts, Professor Sprout and yourself could only watch as the mandrakes grew slowly.

Four now were currently in the infirmary, frozen from the attacks. Mrs. Norris, Colin Creevey, Nearly Headless Nick, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. You knew Justin and Colin from your classed, both were good kids. The last day you would have seen Justin was the day of the blizzard, and your stomach churned at the thought of their parents not having their sons for Christmas and New Years.

Snape opened his mouth to speak again. “Their fate boils down to how well you can do your job.”

“You’ve not to worry, Severus. The mandrakes will reach full maturity in late May.”

Side by side, you both sat quietly as you sighed through the last hour of the year. Y/e/c eyes flicker to Snapes side, watching as he fiddles with the edge trimmings of his robe.

Your attention broke as Lockhart was now face to face with Hagrid, teaching him a dance move and failing miserably. They had a hold of their own ankles, trying to jump through the space. You looked down and pinched the bridge of your nose, shaking your head lightly.

“He’s a buffoon of a man. I see you have half a brain to see that,” Snape’s eyes narrowed on the man. You sensed the hate in his tone.

“I’d steer clear of any man in Ravenclaw. As if they thought they could ever keep up with me,” you laughed. The corners of Severus’ mouth quirked up in an almost smirk, but fell again as if nothing were ever there. You continue to watch again, as the ridiculous men attempt to hop over their own legs. Each landing echoed with a boom as Hagrid’s weight shook the tables around them.

An old witch in bright green robes came pattering to the middle of the Great Hall – her arms waving in the air erratically and enthusiastically. “One minute, everyone!” Minerva squawked. “Gilderoy, stop that!”

Everyone gathered around the center of the hall, wands at the ready once the clock hit zero. Goldspatch was giggling nervously next to Tully Zander. Filius was atop Hagrid’s shoulders. Pomona Sprout dimmed the torches of the hall with her wand, leaving Professor Binns and the other ghosts as the only source of light besides the moonlight beaming through the windows. Even Filch decided to stay, but looked sad without Mrs. Norris.

You stood to join them, Severus following. Soft whispers and giggles filled the spaces as you waited in earnest. Despite all so closely huddled, you turned to face the noir man who’s opaque eyes were already on you. The others soon silenced and you could hear Snapes breathing, slow, hard, and lightly puffing against your neck. It was hard not to notice he smelled of musky herbs and old books; you probably absorbed the smell of plants and dirt... The crowd started chanting as the last ten seconds of the year ticked off the clock.

Ten, you were comfortable, he was stern…

Nine, his eyes narrowed, you smiled…

Eight, his body shifted…

Seven, side by side…

Six, his face changed…

Five, the voices grew louder…

Four, you felt warm…

Three, …

Two, …

One, you were there, together…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment?


	3. Orchid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol hiiii. sorry I'm slow. ANYWAY
> 
> So far I've been using this website  
> https://www.hp-lexicon.org/calendars-harry-potter-novels/day-day-calendar-chamber-secrets/  
> as a rough guide of events to help me structure the timeline.

Orchid: Admiration and innocence

 

**February, 1993**

The winter break ended just as fast as it had started. Classes soon picked up again after the students arrived back at the castle; all looking energized and wide-eyed once more. January flew by with a blink, being the most uneventful month so far. Even the first minutes of it ended quickly as everyone celebrated early into the morning.

Many of the staff ventured out onto the lawn to dance around once more, some stayed within the castle to eat, drink, and talk. You, however, felt a little feverish and clammy. While fanning yourself with your hand, you headed toward the direction of a drink. The glass punch bowl you stirred was charmed to have fog flow out of it, and it continued to do so in your drinking cup. You swirled the contents of the purple liquid around a few times and took a sip.

If not instantly, an odd sensation washed over you as you swallowed the drink down. You felt a slight tugging at the back of your mind; it was that of a feeling you’ve never experienced before. For a moment you thought it might’ve been the punch, maybe Peeves has spiked it? Nonsense, he had been monitored all night by the Bloody Barron. With no explanation, you scanned over everyone in the hall, only to land on the only person paying attention your way. Snapes eyes were boring into your own. The feeling was as if he could stare a hole through your head and out the other side.

For many months now Severus was reluctant to invade her mind. Thus far he had decided against it, her petulant little thoughts not seeming important enough to bother with. Something about her tonight intrigued him so. Maybe it was the way she looked at him, or that smirk she often sported to him and him only, he didn’t know, but he was curious.

As she sipped the goblet Severus explored her empty rooms and endless passageways, and soon came across a curiosity matched similar with his own, about him. _She thinks of me?_ His heartbeat quickened. The thought he found was surrounded by memories of his very own black eyes staring back at him, which quickly turned into a narrowing and twisted path. It ended at a door.

This woman was different to everyone he currently knew, and it absolutely bothered him to his core. She wasn’t afraid of him, in fact she made an effort to talk to him, even after he had been obviously cold to her. He had to know why. No one has shown him a similar kindness in years. A flash of red drowned his memories but he quickly shoved it away. This was not the time to get lost in the colour of Lily Evans. He pressed on. He explored deeper.

A single black door stood there with an iron key sitting in the lock, waiting. Obviously she wasn’t practiced in Occlumency, he thought. It was proving too easy to find what he was looking for. He knew it was on the other side.

Severus reached forward and opened it, only to stop dead in his tracks. In the far distance, he could barely make out the shapes as he squinted harder. Three bodies lay motionless on a living room floor covered with a white sheet. Their figures and faces hidden, he dared not to view any closer to the thought. He backed out of the door and locked it once more. Snape withdrew back with even less of an idea than before he gazed through you.

You squinted him down, clearly suspicious of his activity as you stood there with the goblet clutched between your hands. After setting it aside on the table splayed with beverages and treats, you began to walk in his direction. The dark man’s eyes looked horrified as he marched out of the hall before you could even cross the space between you both.

“What is his problem?” You spoke aloud to no one in particular.

“Ah, yes. Severus. I have seen him in a vision as of late.” Sybill Trelawney appeared out of nowhere right behind you and jumped at the sight of her bug eyes. You’ve only heard of her previously, she barely came down from her tower. Or so they say. “Troubled recently, and at a crossroads, it seems.” She paused a moment, letting her mystery and awe shroud in the air. “I suspect the reason be it you, my flower,” she added, trembling.

“ _Me_? What- how do you mean?” Your brows knitted together.

“It appears you’re quite the thorn in his side, dear.” You looked back to the large doors Severus vanished through, as if attempting to catch glimpses of his echo from moments ago.

“That’s no surprise,” you mentioned, thinking back to the times he was ruder than a goblin.

“Make no mistake, my minds eye tells me this confidently, but he is a hard man to see. I could never get a clear reading of him. Strayed too far from perception I believe.”

Suddenly, your attention snapped back to your class, and the first day of the year quickly left your mind as you continued with your lesson. Your fourth years were chatting amongst themselves as they harvested Shrivelfigs (small purple fruits which contain blossoms inside). The liquid was to be collected, which contained magical properties used for potions.

Although still exceptionally cold, you were glad to be back in the greenhouse. You felt at peace while there.

**

To your distaste, Gilderoy had shared with the school a Muggle celebration you only heard about from stories, _Valentine’s Day_. It was a complete mystery to you, the whole idea of it! An empty stomach guided you in the direction of food on Sunday evening, just as you were finishing up some afternoon reading about Flobberworms, and what type of plant life they enjoy eating.

The Great Hall was decked out in tiny pink and red hearts made of crepe paper which flowed down from the magical ceiling, and were absolutely scattered all across the house tables and stone floor. Heart shaped balloons were charmed to bounced here and there, the air was filtered in a pink haze, streamers hung high and low on the walls, and Filch seemed to be on the verge of a mental breakdown. His left eye was twitching mercilessly as he swept piles of the never ending crepe paper hearts.

The deep aroma of roses filled your nose as you entered the hall, entrancing you as you walked up to your usual seat. Snape looked up at you with a peculiar expression as you rounded the table. His eyes seemed wider than usual, but his head soon dropped to his plate as you stood behind him.

“Are you enjoying your Valentine’s Day?” You turned to Minerva.

She laughed giddily and continued to wave away pink smoke with her hands, “No, dearie. I’m a bit too old for romance I believe.”

“And you, Severus?” A grin played at your mouth as you sat beside him. Since New Year, he seemed calmer around you now; more relaxed. There was no doubt, you knew Snape was upto something fishy that night, but you didn’t care so much now. He was strange, and it suited him. It suited him how he suits black. All this aroma and smoke must be getting to your head, you thought.

“What do you think?” Severus flashed you an exasperated look. You attempted to cover your smile with the back of your hand as a laugh escaped it. He smirked back at you, realizing you were just having a jab at him. How… _playful_. The golden plate in front of you filled with tarts and cherry pie. How… fitting…

You both ducked as a tiny cupid zoomed over your heads, almost naked and armed with a harp. It flew over to a Ravenclaw girl and started singing as her friends laughed. Two Gryffindor twins erupted in laughter as an older, similar looking young man went scarlet in the face and straightened his robes and prefect pin.

Tully Zander, the second history teacher, was grinning with her eyes half-lidded down the other end of the teachers table, twirling a golden rose in her hands. You suspected it was from Goldspatch – the two really hit it off after New Years. The hall was filled with chatter, romantic music, and commotion for most of the night as students ate while enchanted arrows shot across the room.

“It’s strange to hear my name so often in conversation,” you started, leaning toward Snape. His head turned sideways to you, eyes flitting upto yours. “Though… they _are_ beautiful,” you motioned in the direction of a Hufflepuff girl with a large collection of roses next to her seat.

Snape’s eyes shifted from the pile and back to you a few times. Realizing what you meant, he answered with a low “Mm-hmm..,” and moved his attention back to his meal once more.

You didn’t correspond so well to the cheap gimmick of the day, but you could appreciate the hard hours spent growing the roses. They were a difficult plant, even though without magical origin.

An hour passed as the noise continued and whittled away as students went off to bed. The man sitting beside you seemed to have had enough of the noise and overly sweet food and left quietly as normal. The custard tarts were too delicious to abandon just yet, and you ate three more before you felt full. Standing to leave, you bid goodnight to Professor McGonagall with a graceful wave and made for the dungeons.

Once in your bed, you fell asleep quite sound and woke early Monday morning, not to your surprise.

By 5:30 you were showered, dressed and ready to head to the Great Hall. A peaceful breakfast really soothed you and prepared you for the new week. No one would be awake, and you could spend a few hours in the hall of the castle and your classroom alone.

“Merlin’s beard!” you gasped. As you opened the door you stopped instantly, your path blocked. You had not expected something to be _right there_.

Moving closer now, you could see there was a rose levitating right in your doorway level high with your chest. It swayed gently under the torch lit path but as you poked your head out, the corridor was empty. Surely there was some mistake.

You stood in front of it, watching how it was suspended perfectly with magic as it slowly rotated on the spot. The petals were a pale pink and yellow, and almost glowing. It was a sight you never thought possible, how beautiful it was just waiting there. Cautiously, you seized it and turned it over, careful not to catch yourself on any of the thorns. There was a small slip of parchment attached with a green ribbon around the stem.

 

_A Rose by any other name would smell as sweet,_

_Though that flower bloomed red._

_Surely this one is alive,_

_While the other remain dead._

 

The handwriting didn’t look familiar, and it certainly wasn’t Dumbledore’s. Almost absent-mindedly, you doubled back in your room and sat on your bed. Thoughts flashed through your mind as you surveyed the flower. Who sent it? Why would they even think to... oh god, was it Lockhart? No, that man would send an entire parade down into the dungeons if it were him. Perhaps it was Neville Longbottom? That boy was pure at heart, and you suspected he viewed you as a mother figure. That answer seemed just as absurd.

Maybe Severus gifted you the flower? You laughed to yourself at that, seeming too funny to be a real possibility, but something jumped deep in your stomach that made you stop.

There was no use deciphering the poem, it made no sense to you in any way. You reached for your wand and summoned a vase from across the room. “ _Accio_.”

“ _Aguamenti_.” With another swish, water appeared inside. You sat the rose in the vase and moved it to your left bedside table and dropped the parchment aside it. If the sender wanted you to know them, surely they would’ve signed the note, you thought. But that idea didn’t help much; you sat puzzled all morning as you ate and headed to your classroom.

 

**May, 1993**

The weather was finally warming up, and along with it the greenhouses were alive and blossoming with vibrant colors and smells. The darkest thing there was the soil and yourself – the one tone clothing you wore breaking the illusion of a rainbow confined to the glass-paneled rooms. The mandrakes had matured in their entirety, and were finally able to be harvested, cut, and ready to be added to the restorative draught.

“That’s the last of them. Thank Merlin!,” Pomona chimed. “I’m so glad this will all be over now!”

“Yes, as am I,” you sympathized. The stress of all those petrified had taken a toll on the whole school. A true tragedy it was to see Muggle-borns imperiled like this. Despite your pureblood upbringing, you never agreed with how your family viewed those of Muggle parentage. It was one of the few things you didn’t see eye to eye on when they were alive.

“All that’s left is the potion!” The other woman jumped, “I should drop these off to Severus!”

“Please, allow me,” you offered, smiling at the shorter witch. Your interactions with him were always brief, only ever resulting in small talk and exchanging side glances as you ate in the hall. For some odd reason you hoped this would comfort the man as your conversation about the mandrakes on New Year’s Eve replaying in your head. For some odd reason, you enjoyed his company. You did. You wanted things to be friendlier between the both of you.

“Alrighty, I do suppose you get along with him more than anyone. I’ll finish up here. Thanks Rosie,” Sprout smiled as she bustled around the greenhouse with her wand and gloves.

With the tray of plants in your arms, you cut across the courtyard and into a corridor leading down to a staircase. Her words made you think… _Did_ you really get along with Severus Snape? Your cape traced each step as you descended lower into the dungeons towards his office. Despite the air thinning out and cooling dramatically, you felt your throat go dry and your body warm. The moist air brushing up against your arms made your hair stand on end.

Three loud knocks came to his office door and it opened almost instantly. “Hello, Severus,” you said in your husky voice. He motioned you inside and cleared his desk for the tray. “Perfect, as promised.”

Snape inspected the mandrakes, counting them and noting their color and size. With a final nod, it all seemed to be to his liking and you felt pleased to be able to grow such an advanced plant. You didn’t go to a prestigious wizarding college and travel the world studying for nothing.

The potion master turned around to face you and leaned back against his deck, his hands either side of him clutching the edge of its surface. “So she can tend to her garden after all,” he poked.

“It seems so,” you smiled. “How has the year treated you?”

 “Fine,” Snape’s deep rumble stated plainly as his eyes never left yours.

“Who would have thought?” You crossed your arms in front of you, a shiver travelling up your body.

“Don’t pretend you care about anyone but yourself,” Snape breathed; his face still blank.

“What makes you think I don’t?” You smiled once more and took his stab in good humour. He _was_ one to play lately.

“Because I daresay you’re a wealthy pureblood, and I’m sure you and your family have some ulterior motive in your teaching here…” Snape’s tone changed and it was hard to consider that a joke. Before he even finished his sentence he knew how it sounded to her. Though his methods a little unorthodox, he was curious still. Guilt overcame him when he read your thoughts last, which is something he hasn’t felt in a decade. This was the only way he could find out more about you. Talking.

Your mouth fell open and you lost any words that may have been at the tip of your tongue. You were utterly speechless. How _dare_ he. “Yes, I’m sure wanting to be a professor, wanting to… to be your friend finds the interest of dead people, Severus.” You turned to leave feeling slightly hurt and strayed out the door, down the corridor towards your quarters. Luckily your room was not that far away from Snape’s office. You heard his faint footsteps behind you but kept on. As you approached your door you felt something warm grab your wrist.

Snape slowed you to a stop and you turned to him, y/e/c eyes burning into black ones. “Rose, forgive me. I- I didn’t know.”

Out of anyone, Severus knew the feeling of loss. It ached in all the places that once knew joy. It ached near the hill behind his house. It ached in his chest and it ached in the Great Hall. It ached in the way _she_ used to smile; it aches in how she smiles now. He knew he was a miserable git, but someone else’s pain did not deserve to be made a mockery of. It made sense to him now. It was her family behind the door.

With a twist of the iron key, your quarters creaked open and you stood next to the entrance, waiting for Severus to lead inside. He glided unsure over to the armchair by the fire and ignited the logs with his wand as the door closed behind you. It burned hot as though it had been for hours. You made your way next to him, gazing into the flames. The anger ebbed out of you, and soon you felt nothing once more.

It was an easy mistake, and you doubted if anyone even remembered that long ago. So many people had been targeted and killed; it seemed only normal that not everyone would know your family. You sat in the chair across from the black haired man and noticed his body stiffen as you spoke.

“It was twelve years ago. 1981. I was studying in America at the time, and came back to nothing.” Your eyes moved back to the flames, they dared not to look away as you felt them prick with moisture.

“What were their names?” Snape finally said.

“Holly and Aspen Polaris. I had a brother named Sage as well.” Your face shifted, but kept still all the same. “The ministry told me they were killed by a death eater. He escaped. He got away. He’ll never know my pain.” A sigh escaped your chest, heavy with weight. After all this time, it wasn’t any easier to talk about. “They never found out who it was.”

“I’m sorry,” Snape muttered, a new sadness returning to his face.

“Don’t be, it doesn’t matter anymore. It was a long time ago, and everyone lost someone...,” you finished and waited for him to speak. Severus blinked back the look of long forgotten sorrow on his face. _Everyone lost someone_. Her words were a dull pain in his chest.

He glanced over to your bed, and to the rose that live beside it. Three months and it was still alive, just as vibrant as the day you got it. Very beautiful and interesting magic. Your eyes follow his, landing on the flower. “Oh that? It was from Valent–” Snape’s black eyes flick back to yours. “It was you, wasn’t it?” you asked. Your heartbeat thumped hard in your chest and your stomach was alive with butterflies at the thought of Severus giving you a Valentine. You cleared your head. The butterflies were about to fly up your throat and out into the room.

He stood abruptly and waited for you to do so as well. “I should go,” he insisted, barely a whisper. You walked him to the door and pushed it open. He brushed past without a word and a moment later you heard his office door echo shut in the far distance of the dungeons.

 

**June, 1993**

The last day of term rolled around, and the students were excited to board the Hogwarts Express back to London to return home for the Summer Holidays. Rumors had it that Harry Potter and his friends ventured into the Chamber of Secrets and slayed the Slytherin monster causing the attacks. The students, Mrs. Norris, and Nick were returned to their previously animate state as though nothing had happened.

Your classroom lay empty after your last class (first years) of the day rushed out as you were packing away your belongings from the desk drawers. A quiet knock came to your door, shifting your attention from your half of the room to the other. A small, brown haired boy drifted into the doorway.

“Neville? Can I help you with something?”

“Y-yes, ma’am. I just wanted to thank you for being the best teacher I’ve ever had, really,” said the boy, still awkward and shaky as when you first met him.

“Thank you, but _really_ , Professor Sprout is much more skilled than I.”

“But you believed in me when no one else did...” You smiled at this. “I guess you’ll be leaving Hogwarts then?” Neville continued.

“What gave you that idea?” Your eyebrow raised as you asked.

“Most new teachers only stay a year, it’s a bloody curse!” the boy rang.

“Ah, but I am not teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, am I?” You gave a wink. You weren’t sorry to see Lockhart go, even though he did lose his memory. “I’m sure the school will need help in teaching the second years when they return. There are _a lot_ of them,” you reassured, and Neville smiled once more.

“Oh! I almost forgot, here’s your book, professor,” Neville dug in his bag and fetched the tome you gave him at the beginning of the year. He sat it on your desk and headed for the door. “See you!” he waved, and you waved back with a small smile.

After reading well into the afternoon, you exited your classroom and walked toward the hall for the last feast of the term. The walls and ceiling were decorated with maroon and gold, signifying that Gryffindor had won the house cup. You noticed your house group, Slytherin, all looking annoyed at the louder table across the hall, however, Snape seemed as collected and calm as ever as you walked the length of the room toward the teachers table.

After your last scuffle in his office a month ago, he really opened to the idea of your friendship. He’d nod at you when passing in the castle, he answered back when you started conversation during dinner. It was strange, seeing this man you’ve been aware of since you were eleven show signs of subtle change. Snape always _seemed_ so set in his ways.

Your chair was already pulled out and ready for you to sit down. A smiled graced your lips as Snape angled his seat slightly toward you. You sank down and gazed over all the students. The castle would be absolutely deserted without them, but you were glad to have a couple months rest.          

“Just another year of nothing.”

You perked an eyebrow. “You’ve honestly gaining nothing from the past nine months?” Snape looked at you with those ebony eyes you’ve come to enjoy. “I’m sure you’ve gained me giving you a bloody pain in the a–”

Ding ding ding ding. “Can I have your attention please?” Minerva called to the hall, tapping a spoon to her glass.

Dumbledore stood from his seat, his dark auburn robes draped graciously over his form. He slowly raised his hands, respectfully silencing the hall immediately.         

“Before we begin the feast, let us have a round of applause for Professor Sprout, Madam Pomfrey, and Professor Polaris, who’s mandrake juice has been so successfully administered to all who had been petrified.” The hall erupted in a roar of clapping, even the professors gave applause. “Also in light of the recent events, as a school treat, all exams have been canceled.” The thunderous clams boomed once more as the student’s whistled and wooed.

You clapped along with them, but Severus’ face was priceless at hearing that and you couldn’t help but let a few laughs escape you. He softly gripped your upper arm to hush you but it was just so _damn_ funny; for a while there you forgot all your lessons in etiquette and grace from your mother. Luckily enough your laugh was basically silent in all the noise in the hall, and went unnoticed by most. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, red in the face, “but your face was just perfect.”

The feast ended with you both chatting, him talking to Minerva, you joking with Filius. For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, you felt like you belonged. Even as a student you didn’t feel this much acceptance and peace.

The students eventually made for their common rooms for a good nights rest, ready to travel home tomorrow, except for a few seniors who said their last goodbyes to their professors. It made you feel a little sad no one said farewell to Snape, but you could understand why. You made it obvious to him you wanted to sit by him instead of straying away to chat with the others. He seemed grateful.

Around 9pm Severus walked you back to your quarters in the dungeons, easily enough for him as his was no more than fifteen steps away. You faced the door and hesitated with the key, something holding you back. You turned your head to the man and asked “Are you going home for the holidays?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. The bloody place is miserable.”

“I see.” You tucked your y/h/c hair behind your ear to clear your face. “Well, perhaps I’ll see you around.” You didn’t want to press it too hard.

“You do realise you don’t bother me.”

“I had no idea,” you smirked as you unlocked your door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Rose.” The texture of his voice gave you goosebumps as you closed the door behind you. You heard his close shut a minute later as you drifted over to the edge of your bed. What a ruddy year, you thought.

Your clothes hovered over to a basket beside your wardrobe as your stripped them off. You crawled underneath your silky sheets and blankets glistening under the light of the Black Lake. Hmm… the lake. It gave you an idea, but the thought wasn’t entirely formed properly in your head as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

Fever. Cold sweat. Darkness. It all engulfed you at the head of a pin as you swirled through a blinding abyss. You felt comforted by the color but couldn’t seem to figure out where it was from. The darkness moved and made a faint, low sound, a sound you recognized as it vibrated the dark walls around you. It tingled your spine, ensnared your senses; even the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Where the hell were you?

Your mind was completely at a loss, but you felt warm and curious. You ventured deeper into the dark without fear – your arms outstretched in front of you to guide the way. A peaceful embrace came over you, wrapping around you firmly like liquid metal. It traced down your arms, pressed into your neck, brushed over the small of your back, and took you hand in hand.

“Open your eyes, see I’m right in front of you,” the ominous voice spoke.

You were suddenly ripped from the dark place into dull yellow light as you jerked awake - eyes flashing open. Finding yourself alone in your room, you were drenched in cold sweat, making your bed robes stick to your form in a twisted mess.

You longed for the presence that cared for you in your dreams. For once you felt happy, and for a moment you thought it sounded like…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment?


	4. Peony

 Peony: Romance and prosperity

 

**August, 1993**

After about an hour of stirring, you finally drifted back to sleep, your mind unsettled by your unusual dream. Luckily, the mysterious black oddity did not return in your slumber… until several weeks later on the first day of August. Snapes dark mass took proper form as his eyes gazed back into yours clearly and unmistakably.

Sunday morning slowly ticked around and woke you at a pleasant 9 o'clock, to your delight. Surprised as you were, it felt like you haven’t had this much of a sleep in years. The thin dungeon air of your quarters smelled of the blossoming rose beside your bed while the room remained still and silent. The type of silent you’d only find in a sunrise slowly drifting over a field as fog looms over the grass beneath. You turned your head toward the flower and couldn’t help the small smile twitch to your lips.

Dreams usually escaped your mind as soon as you woke up every morning, but you certainly remembered this one. The way his arms enveloped your frame so smoothly, adroit and emollient. How the deep rumble of his chest calmed you instantaneously.

 _Do I honestly have feelings for Severus Snape?_ you asked yourself. Ridiculous. Sometimes dreams were deceiving. The echo of Mothers’ words rang through your head. “You should marry a pure blood, just as I have done, and my mother before that.” A brief sigh emerged from your throat. You laid there squinting through the rays of light while trying to wrap your head around how you felt. The sunlight from the Black Lake skimmed over your skin delicately; you weren’t used to seeing it so bright at this particular time of day.

During the summer you made few trips to Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, but mostly stayed cooped up in the school library for some new reading material or tending to the greenhouses.

You barely saw anyone in the last few weeks, and with not much to do, you grew quite close to Hagrid, the friendly half-giant of a man who was gamekeeper at Hogwarts. Over the days you would usually visit his hut around 1o'clock sharp for tea and crumpets. His vast knowledge of creatures was outstanding, leaving you on the edge of your seat immersed in the stories of encounters he’s had. Your memory returned and you could once again recall your plans for the day. The lake. You wanted to venture down to the lake to collect samples and plant life for the greenhouses. Many types of moss were seasonal and the weather was finally at its peak.

From silver blankets up to your chin, you stretched yourself out beneath them, curling your toes and yawning. With a few hours to spare before you could head to lunch, you decided to take your time getting ready, relishing in the holidays and the absence of the students. After your usual routine, you dressed in your classic black robe that hung below your shoulders and fell several inches after your feet. With your day in mind, you opted for a simple but nice black romper that donned a button up collar and rolled up pressed cuffs. Finishing up with your hair in a ponytail and leather boots, you made your way up to the Great Hall around 12:15 for lunch.

While walking the length of the Entrance Hall, you just so happened to arrive at the same time as Professor Dumbledore before the steps to the large wooden doors. He turned to face you and gave a warm smile and you returned one back.

“Professor Polaris, how nice to see you. Will you be joining us for lunch?” He looked at you over his half-moon spectacles. Even a casual conversation with the old wizard seemed wise and enlightening.

“Of course. Fresh pumpkin juice would be most appreciated today. The weather is perfect,” you insisted, “and please, call me Rose. It doesn’t feel very long ago that you did when I was a student.”

Dumbledore gave a low chuckle and placed a paper like hand on your upper arm. “Tell me, how is Herbology treating you? I know this past year has been a wondrous turn of events, it’s hard to believe all is well again.” The tall windows allowed yellow burst of sunlight to flash around the marble walls, illuminating Albus’ silvery-white beard; it reminded you of fresh powdered snow.

“Remarkable. Just as I remember it, better, in fact.”

“Please,” Dumbledore began, “don’t hesitate to ask for anything that may aid you. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.” A wise and mischievous glimmer shone in his blue eyes as he turned back to the doors of the Great Hall. It looked as though he has knowledge beyond his years. As if he knew something you didn’t.

“Thank you, professor. I’m more than grateful.” You both began up the three steps and onto the landing of the large open room. The decorations from the school term had been removed and the hall looked as empty as ever, except for the candles dancing slowly under a blue sunny sky. Only two students had sought permission to stay on school grounds over the summer, and you wondered if they had any family to go home to.

Up at the teachers table, Severus was resting his cheek in the palm of his hand, looking absolutely tired and bored out of his mind hidden behind a curtain of black greasy hair. Once he saw you and Dumbledore making your way toward the table he perked up and adjusted his sleeves. To say the least he didn’t expect you to come for lunch; after all, you never did.

Most of the table was empty, spare for a few teachers that had decided to remain on school grounds. Many traveled home at their own leisure to enjoy their time off, exempt from their responsibilities for two short months. Dumbledore took his place at the center of the row as you headed over to the far right of the long table.

“All right, Hagrid?”

“’ello Rose. What can I do f’yer?” The great wizard beamed.

“You busy today?”

“A bit. Gotta trim th’ fields an’ set up th’ canvas over th’ quidditch pitch b’fore th’ students get back.” You nodded to him. “I’d love ter have ya over fer supper, mind!”

“Brilliant! See you then.” You smiled and headed back to the left row of the teachers table to your usual seat. Your chair slipped out from under the table with a tug and you sat down with your hands flat on the table. The empty plate in front of you dazzled suddenly with roast turkey and ham with a side of mashed potato. You filled your cup and took a sip, licking over your lips and gulping down the sweet drink.

Severus’ eyes flashed over to you, watching as your tongue darted to the edge of your mouth to lick up the pumpkin juice at its corners.

“I didn’t think you were still here. Pity,” he commented in a mocking tone. In all honesty, you had been avoiding the man a tad. You meant no disrespect, but you couldn’t shake the thought of the dreams you were having and it made you feel unlike yourself.

You turned to face Snape, swallowing a mouthful of ham and setting your fork down on your plate with a clink. “If you want me to quit all you have to do is ask,” you retorted back playfully, with elegance and grace as you took another bite, purposely acting snobby in a sarcastic way. The corners of his lips curled slightly at your remark. Oh how Severus wished you would. It would make his life easier.

“I’m going down to the Black Lake today as I haven’t been since my last year of school.” Snape’s eyes flittered up and down your face in an apathetic way, but you pressed on. “I plan to search for some rather rare fresh water herbs, would you care to join me?” You don’t know why you felt so compelled to invite him, your original choice was Hagrid but you knew he was busy getting the grounds ready for the new school year. The man’s eyebrows raised up and so did his pulse. “I’m aware of ingredients quite difficult to find may be there - minerals, shallow water life of the sort. I would appreciate the help, not only for Herbology, but Potions as well.” Dumbledore turned his head toward the both of you from a few seats away, smirking at what he said to you only moments ago in the Entrance Hall. _Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it._

Severus’ eyes left yours and glanced over the empty hall, contemplating his answer. He could admit… it wouldn’t hurt, and the rare ingredients would be of benefit after all. “Perhaps.”

“Shall we say two o’clock by the Entrance Hall?” Snape gave a tight lipped nod and continued eating quietly. You smiled softly, and deciding you weren’t hungry to begin with, you pushed the plate of food away, stood, and tucked your chair back in.

*

Right on time, your own footsteps tapped and echoed as you arrived by the castles front doors. Glancing up the colossal marble staircase, you admired the golden rows of sunlight slicing through the dim castle air – illuminating micro particles of dust drifting in and out through the streaks. You placed your jute bag full of glass bottles and burlap pouches to your feet, relieving your arms from the weight.

The overly bright hall contrasted with Severus’ gloomy personality and outward appearance as you spotted him pacing up the stairs from the dungeon passageway toward you.

You opened your mouth to speak but was interrupted by loud ringing of the bell as the clock tower above the castle struck two. “Right on time,” you finally said when the bells came to a stop. The potions master acknowledged your praise with a split second smirk and began walking toward the castles front doors. You followed in suit; slightly surprised he even showed up at all.

The sweet, woody air trailed up your nose as late summer air cut across the school grounds. In the distance you could make out Hagrid in the fields cutting grass with an oversized scythe that for once didn’t look like a toothpick in his hands. From this far away he actually looked tiny.

You glanced ahead and realized you fell behind, powerwalking to catch up with Severus - his long strides seemingly much faster than your unhurried steps down the easy slope. Over his left shoulder was a manky old leather satchel bag which probably carried vials and other potions equipment. In his right hand was a tatty old notebook with S.S. embossed on the leather spine. You held your hand out and he passed over the old book. Guessing that’s the best permission you’ll ever get to peek inside Severus’ belongings, you flipped through the pages which contained in-detail notes on ingredients, plants, moon phases, and tides. Even hand drawn sketches of leaves resided with the pages, beautifully and delicately drawn.

Stepping off trail, you and Severus cut across a plain of grass as a shortcut. You returned the book to him as you reached the edge of the lake and dropped your bags beside an old ash tree.

Fine blades of grass tickled at your thighs as you sat to untie your shoes. Severus was already in the water up to his knees, pants and shoes still on. “Oh for heaven’s sake, you’re a witch. You can dry off later,” he rolled his eyes, annoyed. He did remove his coat, however, folding it neatly on top of his bag.

You joined him in the shallows of the shore, rising and sinking from the uneven rocks below. The water felt cool and fluid against your skin as it flowed past you and out of sight down the bend. Your robes floated along the surface of the water, sloshing and twisting about, making it feel heavier than it was. You then knew why he took his off.

A few hours passed and you had about half of the glass bottles left from a bag full. Severus was in and out of the lake sporadically, writing notes and flipping between pages before returning to search for more ingredients.

His arms were almost as white as his button up shirt itself, casting a ghostly reflection in the water below. He looked beautiful, angelic, and the squinting look of concentration on his face accentuated his rugged features even more so.

Snape reached down into the body of water, his porcelain hands disappearing beneath the black water. The colour difference was like night and day, yin and yang, and you thought how you couldn’t forget something so undisturbed. He pulled up a handful of a mossy looking plant dark green in colour that coated his fingers in a thick, congealed slime. He put a few samples in a vial and returned the blob of mess back into the water.

A shy smile came to your lips, admiring the way he only took what was necessary and allowed the plant back into its environment. Many would take the entire specimen and be done with it, but you were glad he at least had some sense of preservation. He slipped the tiny glass bottle into a pocket and arched his head toward you.

“Yes?” Severus questioned in silky tones.

“Nothing… That specimen, it’s rare. I haven’t seen it for three summers. Ten galleons per clipping,” you added.

“I sometimes forget you’re a professor,” he simpered.

“I studied hard to be where I am,” you asserted matter of factly. “That tree over there, beneath it is Lady’s Mantle, used in Zygmunt Budge's recipe of the Beautification Potion. Over by that hill,” you pointed, “is some Mallowsweet. It’s popular with centaurs. And there, Lovage. It’s used mostly in befuddlement draughts,” you continued, filled with excitement over your passion for Herbology. “See by the forbidden forest? Knotgrass. Used in po–”

“Polyjuice potions,” Snape finished.

Dropping your arms to your side, you smiled and relaxed your shoulders - breathing out slowly and listening to the sounds of the birds in the distance. In moments like this you had clarity and self-awareness. You were alone together, staring back at one another. Severus gave a small smile in return.

It felt nice to share this information with somebody, even though Snape already knew most of this. “Far out there, in the deep, Water Lily. It’s a member of the Nymphaeaceae family. One big enough could support my weight.”

Severus’ light demeanor dropped as he returned to the bags, depositing the full vials into his satchel. As you busied yourself searching the shallows, he returned a few meters away with a taut expression on his face.

*

By five o’clock the low lying sun elongated shadows and shapes around the lake and in it, deviating your sight from the highest degree of accuracy. Severus returned to the bags and dried himself off with a flick of his wand. He sat at the base of the ash tree and began scrawling away in his notebook, looking up occasionally to see what you were doing.

“Don’t stare. My mother taught me it is rude,” you mentioned.

“I could say the same for you,” he said, without looking up from his page. Your stomach squirmed with the light flutter of butterflies. 

You were quite deep in now, but after filling your last burlap pouch with some ShimmerCrunch stones, you waded through the water toward the bank, each step emitting a sloshing sound, lightly wetting the bottom of hair. Something soft and wiggly tickled at your ankle, shocking you as you jumped away from the sensation. The water stirred and bubbled as a blur shot out toward you.

Before you could even react, a burning pain pulsed right up your thigh and through your field of vision. Teeth as sharp as knives latched onto your skin, piercing through and causing white hot pain. The squirmy, pink tentacles of the Murtlap ejected its poison.

Your legs gave in and you fell submerged in the water. Before you could even stand, two strong arms plunged you out of the water and toward land. Water had no time at all to fill your nose as you stumbled your way toward the bags.

Snape watched over the water for a moment and turned to join you at the tree. “It’s gone,” he pointed out.

“Fffffu- Sev... my leg,” you choked out.

Snape’s body went rigid and still. He stood there watching as your leg turned pink and angry and flowed with blood. Like a few seconds ago, he graced you with the support of his arms and hoisted you up on your feet. “Let’s go.”

The potions master swung your right arm around his neck, holding it in place, while his other hand supported your back as he more or less carried you back to the castle and through the halls. His hurried footsteps barely made a sound on the stone and marble under his feet while yours struggled to keep up, dragging and tripping from his fast pace.

As you both round a corner, Snape grips your side and stops, continuing no further. Cackles of laughter echo from the empty corridor as Peeves appeared to have bewitched a broom closet, causing mops and buckets to fly here and there. The sudden stop allowed you to catch your breath.

“Out of my way, poltergeist,” Snape ordered.

“Say please, mister,” the little man joked, clearly not caring about the dire situation. The mops zip into a line, their wet ends pointing toward you. The buckets fly high above you both, threatening to spill.

“Peeves! Move!”

“I don’t hear the magical word, Snakey,” he chimed as he cupped his ear with his hand.

“ _Langlock_!” You watched as Peeves’ mouth instantly seized up, causing him to wrestle himself amidst the air, tumbling and thudding about. The hexed cleaning supplies dropped down and lay lifeless on the floor as he strained to speak. Realizing his efforts futile, he swooped away up a nearby staircase, spiraling upwards and upwards out of sight.

Back on track, Severus adjusted his grip on you and pressed on, careful not to make any sporadic or jolting movements along the way.

“Where are you taking me? The hospital wing isn’t this way,” you spoke through panting breaths.

“The hospital wing isn’t where we are going.” Through the twisting and winding passageways of the school, each step echoed endlessly off stone and empty space, and it soon became clear where Snape was leading you. With only a left turn to go, you soon found yourself at greenhouse 4.

Snape lead you to a nearby wooden stool beside a pot of Belladonna and began selecting leaves from the plethora of flora in the warm, windowed room. As his dark form darted back and forth between flower beds of Dittany and rows of wooden trays amongst the Goosegrass, all you could do was watch Severus trimmed leaves with precision as your head started to spin.

After what seemed like half a minute, he produced a bowl of a balmy, dark green leaf infused remedy for the burning bite on your leg. He hesitated for a second, cautious of the now shaking and shivering body below him. Your breaths became fast and shallow and hitched, gasping and wheezing through the pain. Severus couldn’t tell which was water or sweat anymore as your fever skyrocketed.

He dropped to his knees to calm you, lifting your chin from a slump to look at him, sweat trickling down your forehead and the side of your face as your eyes met. Mouth agape, your breathing slowed slightly as he came closer, leaning in to access the bite area, but surpassing it to move his hand to your cheek and the other to the back of your damp neck. “Relax. You’re not reacting well to the venom,” he whispered, so close to you now you could feel his soft breath puffing back against your panicked one.

If you were in any frame of mind, it would be more than an oddity that the potion masters lips were no more than half a foot away from yours. Smooth fingertips brushed caringly at the nape of your neck and behind your ear as Severus touched his forehead to yours. “You need to slow your heartrate. It will spread faster if you don’t.”

Your eyes closed in exhaustion but you managed a nod against his skin. Snape drew back to access the wound and worked the leafy mixture onto the site. Within mere seconds the sweat was alleviating and your breathing was returning to a more stable level. Snape looked pleased with himself, but mostly relieved.

A few minutes passed, and he finally spoke. “You must be particularly susceptible. Everyone is different, you’re lucky you skipped over the twitch.”

“I’m lucky I skipped over the anal flames…,” you choked. The sting was now reduced to a barely noticeable tingle. The Dittany healed over the puncture and it looked almost perfect.

Snape didn’t hear you, or maybe just chose to ignore as he began to put away the items he used. He spoke slowly as he cleaned off the table, “Some of Poppy’s elixirs can have unfortunate side effects. Though her intentions are purely good, she does not possess the adequate knowledge on how to concoct perfect remedies – something easily avoidable if I were to treat you. And I don’t particularly want to see any unwanted suffering from a pesky Murtlap.”

“Severus Snape wants to stop unnecessary suffering? Sounds awfully out of character,” you chuckled weakly. “I don’t think I could’ve made it to Poppy fast enough. Thank you.” Severus nodded at your response and averted his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” That certainly wasn’t true. Snape knew it and so did you. He only looks away when he’s upset or angry, though he will never admit it.

“I know you well enough to know you’re lying. Look at me.”

The black haired man turned back to face you, emitting a strange sense of disappointment. “Be more careful next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yes.”

You gave a sad smile and looked down at your leg, more or less healed and seemingly a long forgotten memory. No one knew what happened except the two of you. An embarrassing situation. A little secret.

Snape finished up cleaning and returned to your side once again and took you by the hand; his other lifting to your forehead to check your temperature. Something so intimate from the man impossible of kindness to students and professors alike. With one hand still in yours, he reached for the wand at his side but was interrupted with a concerned call.

“What in Merlin’s name happened!?” Pomona hastily stumbled in through the glass doors of the greenhouse, rattling them at the frame. You completely accepted the idea that you were fine and forgot that you were still soaked and dripping with lake water through the castle. Sprout must’ve followed the wet trail to you.

Snape stood abruptly and away from you, patting the left side of his body, still wet from you leaning on him. “Peeves jinxed a broom closet, I’ll be sure to let the Baron know. Miss Polaris made a complete fool of herself and I felt obliged to assist her,” he hissed as he looked down at you. “ _Tergeo_.” His clothes instantly dried.

The lie hurt a little, you must admit. He was definitely convincing with his disappointing remarks, but better than mentioning what really happened. It always seemed the way at Hogwarts that if one person knew something, the whole school would soon know. You did prefer if this little mistake went unnoticed. He covered for you. He covered himself too.

“Rosie, are you alright now?” Pomona fussed as she came over to help you up from the wooden stool.

“Yes, of course,” you lied all the same as you looked over your wet and mucky clothes.

Snape glided over to the greenhouse doors and breezed out, holding it open from the outside. “Miss Polaris, please clean yourself up,” he tutted.

You followed him out and gestured goodbye to Professor Sprout as you both continued to pace distance down the corridor.

* 

Four clear but uncertain knocks broke the air around you, followed by more deafening silence after the fact. At this hour surely all the professors would asleep or in the quarters by now at least. Well… most, you thought, as you answered the door to find Snape in his night robes staring back at you from the corridor.

You peek out, leaving the door ajar. “Severus, what is it? What’s the matter?” you asked.

“May I come in?” The neutral tone of his voice calmed you slightly, alleviating your worries.

“Of course,” you motioned him inside, opening the door wider now. Snape stopped in the middle of the front room and turned to watch you lock it once again.

“I didn’t see you at dinner, I just wanted to check in with your… wound.”

“I went to Hagrid’s. Its fine, Severus. I was fine after the greenhouse. But you know that.” A few moments of quiet as the fire crackled and filled the empty spaces around you. How you wished it was Severus around you instead. Snape swallowed thickly. He wished he didn’t use Legilimens on you so often, even when he can’t control it. “Why are you here?”

 “Your bags.” Bollocks. He placed your jute bag and ingredients by the armchair of the fire. You sensed hidden intentions from the dark man. Despite his placid nature there seemed to be a part of him that was on edge.

“Brilliant, cheers,” you said, crossing your arms.

You wouldn’t know what was running through his head or how many sped up centuries he must’ve been thinking about it, but Snape finally spoke, ridding the situation of the sound of burning wood and steady breathing. “What do you want from me?”

“Pardon?” you squinted.

“I know what you think of me. I can’t figure out why,” he rumbled.

“What do you mean...?” _Where on Earth is this coming from?_ you thought.

“Don’t make me say it. All of this is hard enough.” Severus looked defeated, like a lost dog in the big city. As if this was some type of chore.

“If it’s easier, you don’t have to say anything.” You took his hand in yours, and with no negative reaction, you took it as a sign it was the right way to go. Your cheeks grew warm and rosy. “Why are you mentioning this now?”

“I guess the past has a way of catching up with you,” Snape mumbled. Nothing he said made sense to you, but all you could do was listen. He looked over to your bed, and to the flower he gifted you six months previous. You followed his gaze and blinked.

“Was it her? Lily?”

“Rubbish. What makes you think–,” Snape spoke abruptly, breathing slow but heavily.

You cut in, “ ‘A Rose by any other name would smell as sweet, though that flower bloomed red.’ Severus, I may have been a year below you in school, but it wasn’t hard to see how you felt about her.”

“Be that as it may, it doesn’t change what happened.”

“Yes, but I won’t sit here and be compared to someone who never loved you.” The words cut sharp and deep, and left Snape without a response. He just simply raised your hand within his and kissed it.

 

**September, 1993**

The term once again started, quite the same as it always does. Most professors arrive a few days before the students. Some travel by the Hogwarts Express, some by other means. You started for the Great Hall. Just a year ago you did quite the same when you started, and you wondered who would be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Dumbledore usually kept things like this a surprise until announced.

You stopped by a painting along the way to ask the time. “Its five o’clock, ma’am,” a young girl announced, checking the sundial in her garden. The students will almost be here! You hurried your pace and arrived with time to spare. With most seats filled at the professors table, yours remained empty with Severus at its side, looking absolutely disgusted beyond all belief.

You arched a brow as you walked the length of the hall, scanning over the familiar faces you haven’t seen in many weeks. Flitwick, Aurora Sinistra, Binns, Felix Goldspatch with Tully Zander at his side. Your eyes lock with a pale faced man standing with Dumbledore, full of scars and spun out hair. It took you a moment to realise, that brown tatty suit, those old dirty shoes. That kind unmistakable smile you remember from a decade ago.

“Remus?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY  
> But yes I'm back! Summer just ended and finally I can turn my laptop on without it overheating (I love Australia lmao)  
> Also I'm trying to tie in all the areas of the story in my head and type it all out but its coming across messy so this is taking more time than expected :'/
> 
>  
> 
> Year 3 Timeline:  
> https://www.hp-lexicon.org/calendars-harry-potter-novels/day-day-calendar-prisoner-azkaban/
> 
>  
> 
> Leave a comment?


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